


In Nomine

by Arabwel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, HaleCest, Non-Explicit, Not Canon Compliant, Parent/Child Incest, but heavy undertones of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2460725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arabwel/pseuds/Arabwel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She sees her name on the paper and runs</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Nomine

She walks off slowly, her breathing painfully even. She doesn’t look back, cannot look back. There is an anger just below the surface, anger she knows would surface if not for the bone-deep exhaustion left behind by the infection. All directed towards her anchor. Her Stiles. 

Just his name makes her angry so she doesn’t think about him, just puts one foot after another, her heels clicking against the floor not unlike claws on concrete. She wants to transform, to lope away into the shelter of the woods but she can’t. 

There is a scent in the air that tickles her nostrils, faint and old. It lingers, from the last time she was here, with - 

With Peter Hale. 

She is not stupid, just.. not very human. She can put together the puzzle far too easily. The name on the list, the way he had _looked_ at her when he saw her. 

Part of her feels revolted by the fact that she had thought him attractive. That nowhere in Lydia’s tirade about the evil, conniving bastard who was too charming for his own good had it been mentioned that he was not some old codger but rather, a wolf in his prime, who knew it and showed it with those v-necks fitted to perfection. That when he had _looked_ at her, something inside had clenched, hot and heavy and nothing like when she’s with - Another part of her doesn’t care, because it is such a human notion. Who cares if he’d bred the bitch who whelped her? It wouldn't matter in the woods, hadn’t mattered when she’d gone through her heats, even though she’d never taken. 

His scent is not easy to follow; it disappears on her, and she thinks he is hiding it on purpose, just like Derek told her. She is standing in the middle of an alleyway, trembling with exhaustion and anger at the futility of it and all she wants to do is to howl with frustration.

“Did your father never tell you not to wander alone at night?” 

The words are not a surprise. Malia opens her eyes, unaware of the fact that she’d closed them and _he_ is right there in front of her. His eyes glow in the dim light, the eerie blue she shares when she transforms, the smirk on his lips echoing his tone. 

Her throat is suddenly dry. “You never told me anything.” 

His eyes widen just a fraction, enough for her to notice. “Well, isn’t this a surprise.” 

He stalks closer to her, every inch the predator, the wolf. Her hackles rise; she is not prey and she growls, taking a step closer to him. In her heels she matches him in height, even if he is so much broader than she is, the strength in his frame evident in the ubiquitous v-neck. 

He is not cowed. In the span of a heartbeat he is standing right next to her, his scent suddenly achingly familiar to her filling her nostrils. He is smiling, showing teeth when he leans close, to scent her neck. 

Something inside her clenches again and she growls again, her claws popping out. 

“So many things I could tell you, Malia,” he purrs, raising a hand to wrap a strand of her hair around his fingers. “So very many.”

“Like why my name is on the list. My _real_ name.”


End file.
